


Superwholock Collection

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Feelings, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10520997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Drabbles, one-shots, prompts, unfinished works, etc! All revolving around Supernatural, Doctor Who, and Sherlock. Tags will be added as stories are added.(Also posted on Wattpad under the same title+username!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> SHERLOCK!
> 
> Sherlock leaves early from Mary and John's wedding, as everybody knows. But, what happened when you got back home?
> 
> focused on the Johnlock ship
> 
> (spoilers for seasons 2+3 of sherlock)
> 
> angst with a little bit of comfort..

Sherlock gazed at the golden letters of 221b, the usually welcoming green of the door just another dull, insignificant color. In the light from the nearby street lamp, Sherlock noted how the knocker of the apartment was straightened. Mycroft was inside, waiting for him to return from the wedding, definitely knowing his brother would leave early. He scoffed and twisted the knocker, momentarily enjoying tormenting Mycroft- besides, it was his door and he did like it. Taking a short breath, Sherlock opened the door quietly, shutting it softly behind him as he slipped through the entrance, being sure not to hit his violin case on the wall. He could see the light from upstairs- Mycroft was sitting in the living room, in John's chair, judging by the shape of the shadow. He made his way upstairs, stifling a grunt of annoyance as a certain stair creaked when he stepped on it.

  
"Brother mine," Mycroft called out. "Is that you?" Sherlock shook his head, the emotions of the wedding making him irritable.

  
"Yes," He mumbled, reaching the top of the stairs. Sherlock was greeted with the image of Mycroft sitting in John's chair, reading a newspaper from the everlasting pile in the room. "That's John's chair," Sherlock noted absentmindedly, walking across the room with a blank expression and setting down his violin.

Mycroft didn't answer, instead responding with a short, "You left early."

  
"How keen of you to notice," Sherlock growled back, roughly taking off his tie and throwing it aside. "You aren't the only one, Mycroft," Sherlock replied with a more even tone, "who dislikes weddings." Mycroft kept his eyes trained on his younger brother as he slumped down in his chair. Sherlock did not meet Mycroft's eyes.

"I'm sorry." Mycroft said after a moment. "It must have been difficult for you, Sherlock." Mycroft's attempt at sympathy was, surprisingly, better than any of Sherlock's.

"I suppose it was. Seeing.. seeing him.. with someone else."

Sherlock's openness surprised both men. He'd only open up to one person- John. But John had a wife now, and a child too. Sherlock was happy for him, but could not help the feeling of sadness that crept into his chest. Sherlock cleared his throat with a cough and stood up.

  
"I'm okay, Mycroft." He said dismissively. Mycroft shook his head.

  
"You don't handle feelings well, brother dear." Mycroft placed the newspaper aside, and Sherlock caught a glimpse of the headline- 'Sherlock back from the dead,' - an old newspaper then.

  
"I know," Sherlock whispered hoarsely, not moving as his brother stood up and walked over to him.

  
"Come here." Mycroft said, holding out his arms- a hug, Sherlock knew.

Despite every instinct, every muscle, every feeling, telling him not to, Sherlock fell into Mycroft's arms, hugging him tight. Tighter than Mycroft expected, but both brothers threw their awkward and distant feelings aside.

  
"I'm sorry," Sherlock grumbled into Mycroft's shoulder.

  
"Nothing to be for." Mycroft responded, rubbing Sherlock's back in an attempt for comfort.

  
"I waited too long," Sherlock raised his voice. "I loved him! But he moved on because- I couldn't face him after I had faked it. I couldn't-"

  
"Damn right you couldn't. If Moriarty's snipers discovered you weren't really dead, John and the others would have died." Mycroft said, stepping back to look straight into Sherlock's tired, sad eyes. "I know you loved him. I won't say it's fine- because it is not fine. You lost him." Sherlock screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists.

"But not as a friend." Mycroft said sternly. "You're his best friend. He loves you too."

  
"No, he loves Mary." Sherlock responded dully, pulling away from Mycroft. Mycroft let him with an unreadable expression.

"He loves you, too. Cares about you," He almost said it with a sneer, but covered it. Sherlock either appreciated that, or didn't care. "He'll be there for you."

...

"I know."

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!  
> more will be added soon, hopefully!
> 
> kudos, comments, or anything else is appreciated, thanks! 
> 
> (I apologize for any mistakes/errors)


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